


almost ran over an angel; he had a nice big fat cigar

by paganpoetry



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:50:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paganpoetry/pseuds/paganpoetry
Summary: She likes the idea of him dying in her arms, it was sort of sweet in a sick way.  He loved her fiercely, with his teeth bared, but he also resented her.  Maybe he blamed her still, for fucking with his life.  But they were destined to end up together.  The last two survivors. The hanged man and his high priestess.





	almost ran over an angel; he had a nice big fat cigar

**Author's Note:**

> A study in Kate Fuller, and her relationship with Seth Gecko. Title comes from Tori Amos' "Leather."

The first time they pull a job together, they kiss in the back seat of the getaway car as Richie drives. Seth buys her a wedding band from the pawn shop and she accepts, because she's desperate for a normal life. She'll settle for a semi-normal life. He tells her their life starts now, today, and that nothing that happened before matters anymore. She calls him a bastard and locks him out of their hotel room. Seth had lost something, maybe everything. But she had lost more. She had lost herself.

  
She runs a finger across the gold band. It's too big, it slides all the way up to the knuckle and threatens to fall off. She won't let it, though she is hurt Seth didn't know her ring size. As if that's something they had discussed. She stares at it as Seth bangs on the door. Her hands are worn, a calloused trigger finger and a thief's engagement ring. Maybe she's the bastard here, not Seth.

  
Maybe back before everything that had happened, she would have turned to God to get her through. Maybe back before her mother had died of ineffective faith healing. Back before she lost her father and her brother to demons. Before she committed murder. She looks down at her hands and her eyes flash red, they were never stained with blood, there was no ceremonial washing of them. But still, every time she sees those hands she doesn't know if they belong to a servant of God, or the queen of hell. She can remember the last time she prayed: it was that night at the Titty Twister, when this downward spiral started. She begged God for mercy, to spare her family. But He is cruel, and only she was spared.

  
It's 3:00 am when she finally opens up and Seth falls into the room, he had been sleeping with his back pressed against the door. "Why didn't you go stay in Richie's room?" she asks him, helping him to his feet and letting the door slam behind them.  
He shrugs. She hates him for it. He was supposed to say, because I love you and wanted to be with you on the night I proposed. But she knows Seth Gecko better than that, he doesn't speak in sonnets and he doesn't say 'I love you.' He's only a smooth talker with a gun in his hand. He's not a poet and he can't spew pretty bullshit while holding a little girl's heart.

  
He loosens his tie, sits on the edge of the bed. She takes her seat on the floor, next to the miniature refrigerator. It's stuffed with those little tiny bottles of Jack Daniel's. She remembers asking once, as a child staying in a Motel 6 with her parents, why they didn't just give you the adult sized bottle. Her mother had laughed and her father had told her that all sizes of whiskey bottles were adult sized, because whiskey was only for adults. She's a fresh faced nineteen year old, not even old enough to buy a bottle. But she reaches for one of the little shots anyways.

  
She's knocked back two of them before she hears Seth speak, across the room, now lying back on the bed. "Throw me one of those, will ya?" He's asking her for an olive branch, and she doesn't want to fight anymore. Not tonight. So she grabs two more bottles and walks over to him. Timidly, she perches on the edge of the bed. He's a little sluggish, but manages to sit up and look her in the face.

  
"To us?" she asks, handing one of the cheap bottles over to him. He screws the cap off, an old pro, and nods. She follows his lead.  
"Here's to getting rich and fat, and to me, dying in your arms." He knocks it back. She does the same. She likes the idea of him dying in her arms, it was sort of sweet in a sick way. He loved her fiercely, with his teeth bared, but he also resented her. Maybe he blamed her still, for fucking with his life. But they were destined to end up together. The last two survivors. The hanged man and his high priestess.

  
Absentmindedly, she runs a finger along his thigh. He catches his hand in hers, brings it to his face. Kisses her fingertips. And when he notices she's still wearing the ring, he moves in to kiss her face. Her mouth is warm with whiskey breath. His hands are running across her body, her breasts, her stomach, her waist. She remembers the first time they made love, so many nights ago. Mexico was strange and the feel of Seth's body on hers had been even stranger. She had given him her virginity because she had nothing else to lose. Now she gives him everything because she loves him. Against her better judgement, through whatever comes, she will walk next to him. She knows that's what love is, had seen her mother and father go through hell only to meet up again in heaven.

  
Seth is a lover, though he tries very hard to hide it. He trails his tongue along her inner thighs, teasing, nipping carefully at the soft skin there. She grabs a fistful of his dark hair and moans quietly, hotel walls are thin. He doesn't ask for anything once she's finished. Only lays beside her and doses off.

  
Laying next to him, naked, she runs her fingers along her abdomen. Traces two fading scars, forgotten bullet holes that were only the beginning of her trauma. When she finally drifts off towards sleep, the sun is up. She smiles a little, too tired to muster much more. In her old life, she had never been nocturnal, but now it was a rarity to not be up all night. She drapes an arm over her eyes, protection from the sun. She dreams of angels and revolvers, and wakes up with Seth beside her and his ring still on her finger.


End file.
